


An afternoon in early August

by literature_and_ocean_waves



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Super cute and super short, i had fun with this one, part of my au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literature_and_ocean_waves/pseuds/literature_and_ocean_waves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It all began in a motel room on a hot summer day. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	An afternoon in early August

It all began in a motel room on a hot summer day. 

Charles had heard about the Los Angeles’s oppressively dry August heat, but he had never experienced it until now. And as a man who had spent much of his life in upstate New York and England, he was definitely not accustomed to such blazing temperatures. 

Still. He had managed to ignore it for most of the morning in favor of focusing on the excitement that came from speaking to a new mutant. 

Charles and Erik tracked down the young woman to a Hollywood film studio, where she worked as an assistant to one of the producers. 

After a quick lie to her boss, and some telepathic manipulation to make it seem real, they managed to get her to sit and talk with them. 

She took to the information about mutation with less shock than some of their previous meetups, as she was a clever and logical person who had correctly rationalized that her gift could hardly be the only one out of the billions of people on the planet. And her power of invisibility, or rather very advanced camouflage, was nothing too shabby either. 

But despite her power and her pleasure at meeting others like herself, she had no interest in joining them, much to Charles’s disappointment. She had a good life in L.A. and, apart from her initial fears when the mutation first appeared during her adolescence, she had had no issues in regulating her powers. 

Nevertheless, she took the informational card that Charles gave her and politely offered to consider their proposal over the next twenty-four hours. But Charles already knew what her answer was going to be, even before they had driven off the studio lot. 

They went back to the motel, hoping for some relief from the sweltering sun. It was better; the room even had one of those new air conditioning units that perched right outside the window. Normally they might have played a game of chess or read some books or simply talked. But Charles found the combination of persistent excess heat and failure at finding another member to their little team to be a rather unpleasant mixture. 

Which is how both men, clad only in boxer shorts, found themselves happily swimming in the pool out back. 

It was relief, pure and simple. The water was cool, blue, and clean and no other residents of the motel were around. The privacy suited Charles and Erik just fine. 

They swam around and talked for hours, leaning against the warm, concrete sides of the pool. Sometimes it was about their next mutant prospect, sometimes it was about finding Shaw, but mostly they talked about their plans for the future. 

Charles was much more naturally inclined to chatter than Erik and he already had much more thought-out ideas for what they would do when this was all over. (Erik’s plans generally did not go beyond the topics of Shaw and revenge and death.) 

But he rather liked the ones Charles presented him. Words like school and home and mutant were tossed around a lot. As were travel and adventure and companionship. (Erik secretly liked those the best.)

The sun dipped a bit lower in the sky, the rays casting long shadows and painting the world in brilliant gold. Charles and Erik climbed out of the water, their fingers having gone prune-y a long while ago. 

Instead, they vacated to some of the lounge chairs on the pool deck and their fingers found much more interesting things to do.

Reclining on rather rigid wooden frames, covered by only the barest hints of cushioning, was hardly the most comfortable position to make-out. Yet neither of them was complaining in the least. 

It was only when Charles felt the tell-tale pull of approaching, unfamiliar minds that he gently pried himself away from Erik. He whispered that they should leave the pool to the worn-out, vacationing family from Iowa, and headed back up to their room. Erik, naturally, had no objections. They giggled like naughty schoolchildren all the way there. 

The pair popped into the shower first, eager to wash off the chlorine and, in Charles case, examine a mild sunburn. But the kissing from earlier had not been stopped, only delayed, and after the warm water had run out they gleefully toppled onto their singular, king-sized bed. (Which had been provided thanks to Charles’s power influencing the girl at the front desk to, quite literally, look the other way on two men ordering one bed.)

Sexual encounters for Charles and Erik had developed a pattern over the last few months, usually summed up as hard, intense, and aggressively, overwhelmingly fun for both parties involved. 

But that evening in the sunset-bathed motel room was nothing short of lovemaking. Everything was slow and warm and soft; rhythms of beautifully moving bodies and the hushed, airy sighing of pleasure. They left the windows open, no cares at all for who might see them in this strange, devil-may-care city. 

Hours and hours later, they lay dozing in each other’s’ arms. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon and stars had danced their way out to take its place, shining brightly against an inky blue sky. 

Charles rested his head on Erik’s chest, satisfyingly sore and sleepily sated. Not even realizing he was doing it, Charles wrapped his own mind around Erik’s equally exhausted one. His consciousness hummed with contentment and affection. There was another emotion there, too. One that had never been spoken aloud by either of them, yet somehow had always been present as an ever-flowing undercurrent. 

Charles held the feeling in his cerebral hands, cradling it and mixing it with his own satiny emotions, before pushing it back towards Erik. Like an endless feedback-loop, the feelings flowed between Charles and Erik, embracing them in a snug and silken cocoon, safe. 

When the two awoke to the next morning’s dawn, well-rested and relaxed, they both knew something had changed. 

Perhaps it was the heat, no longer thick and unyielding, but sunny and mild and welcome. 

Perhaps it was the fresh air that filled their room, having come in from the night before. 

But whatever it was, they both knew that it was something good. 

Something for the better. 

 

 

Six Months Later

 

Winter had firmly dug its claws into the Westchester landscape this year and February showed no sign of that hold disappearing just yet. 

Charles sat in his bed, propped up by numerous pillows and reading. He could hear the snow falling outside, that particular kind of quiet that can be found nowhere else in nature. 

The house had settled in for the evening, the youngsters having tired themselves out after spending the afternoon happily playing outside in the frozen flurries. 

Charles yawned widely, momentarily setting aside his book in favor of rubbing his distended belly. The twins were curled up in their respective corners, with Pietro on the right and Wanda on the left. 

Pietro had been kicking a lot about an hour ago, engaged in some game that only he seemed to know the rules of. Charles snickered to himself. Pietro had made the fatal mistake of trying to get his sister to play along with him, wiggling over to her side and poking her repeatedly. Wanda had then proceeded to wallop her brother for his annoying shenanigans and shoved him back to his own space. Pietro had then sunk away to sulk. 

But now they seemed to have finally gone to sleep, their baby brains purring in their cozy, snug, little world. Charles lightly stroked their minds, lulling them into a deeper, richer slumber. 

Charles’s eyelids were getting heavy, but he had promised himself that he would stay up to wait for Erik. Not that Erik would know this; the man’s protective instincts had reached new heights lately as Charles’s stomach grew larger and his mobility grew smaller. Still. What Erik did not know would not hurt him. 

Which is why Charles, feeling Erik’s mind and hearing his footsteps, took up his book once more. The door slid open with a quiet creak and Erik walked in, his meeting with the Brotherhood complete. Erik said nothing and went about getting ready for bed without a word, but Charles was not bothered; the smile in Erik’s eyes and upon his lips was better than any sentence could ever be. 

Erik climbed in next him and sank into the bed like a tired stone. Charles tucked himself into Erik’s arms, his eyes falling blissfully closed. 

The air might have been frigid outside, but the Xavier Institute was toasty and welcome. 

Much like a certain Los Angeles’s motel room had been during an afternoon in early August. 

 

The End.


End file.
